Depravity (A Beastly Tale Book 1)(9)

"Fetch your mended shirt from Blye. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable in it," he said. "See me when you're ready to leave."

I nodded and quietly crept to my room. After carefully closing the door,  I looked around the room. My shirt lay neatly on the thin comforter of  my narrow bed. Something about it looked odd, but I couldn't determine  what when I lifted it up. As usual, Blye's stitches ran small and  straight, making it impossible to see where she'd made any change. I  slipped out of the dress and pulled on my trousers then bindings.                       
       
           



       

Outside, I heard a flutter of wings; and as I looked up at the partially  shuttered window, the crow used his beak to make room for himself on  the ledge. Blye opened the door behind me before I could shoo the crow  away.

"Did you try it on?" she asked impatiently.

I turned away from the voyeuristic crow and shrugged my arms into the  shirt. It fit, but it pulled snugly from shoulder to shoulder across the  back. Frowning, I closed the front and began to button it up, seeing  the problem immediately. The shirt buttons strained to close the gap  between the front two panels and created small spaces where anyone could  see my bindings or stomach for that matter.

Disappointment clearly on my face, I looked up at her. Her expression remained impassive.

"Well, I tried. The cloth I had didn't match, and you would have looked  like a patchwork. Perhaps Father can save for a new one. Until then, you  do have the dress."

I stared after her as she glided from the room and closed the door. The  dress? In a disbelieving trance, I walked across the room to one of the  compact chests sitting on the floor at the foot of the larger bed that  Blye and Bryn shared. There was one chest for each of my sisters, gifts  from our mother, who'd died before giving one to me. She'd meant them as  a place for us to store the things we would collect for our own homes.

Carefully lifting the lid of Blye's chest, I gazed at the yards of  folded fabrics stacked neatly on top of each other and the various  lengths of ribbon lying on top of them. Threads of several colors twined  around a thin spindle. Under the spindle, a simple bolt of roughly  woven cream cotton material rested all but forgotten beside the prettily  colored fine weaves. I would have liked to think Blye had overlooked  the material; but wrapped in a bit of coarse thread, the section on my  shirt she'd taken away sat beside it. She was right. The colors didn't  quite match, but she had enough of the other material to make me a whole  new shirt if she chose to. It hurt knowing she couldn't spare anything  for me when I'd given so much to her.

A clicking at the window distracted me; and I let the lid close softly,  leaving the contents undisturbed. The crow opened and closed its beak  several times without making any other sound and then took off from the  sill, leaving me in peace.

Shaking out the dress and brushing as much of the dirt from it as I  could, I spread it on the bed and went to the kitchen to wash up. Two  kettles rested on the stove in the vacant kitchen. I fetched a cloth and  tested the water. Still cool. Frowning, I checked the stove. Bryn  hadn't even added wood to it to heat the water. Sighing, I set to  washing in the cold water, wiping my skin, but foregoing rinsing my  hair. Instead, after I finished and changed back into the dress, I ran a  brush through it then braided it again.

Tossing the water into the garden out back, I noticed the crow watching  from the top of our tiny outbuilding that housed the goat and a few  garden tools. It watched me closely, its quiet more disturbing than its  previous cawing. I thoughtfully narrowed my eyes at it before going  inside.

Finally ready, I knocked on Father's study door. He stood before the  window, staring out at nothing when I entered, but quickly turned to  hand me a sealed letter.

"Try to be home before dark and save me from another night's worry, Bini," he said softly, kissing my cheek.

I nodded and moved aside to let him pass. He'd obviously been waiting  for me so he could leave for the school and ring the bell to call his  pupils.

* * * *

The crow followed me as I walked away from the cottage, heading  northwest toward the road. I wanted to angle north enough to miss any  possibility of running into Tennen or Splane. I imagined by now, Tennen  knew I'd returned home, thanks to Bryn, and wondered at his reaction.

Lost in thought, I continued my journey until the crow flew at me from  the left, making a racket and flapping in my face. Raising my arms for  protection, I turned away, instinctively taking several large steps to  put distance between us. So far, the crow had just followed me; the  violence of its sudden attack left me with a racing heart and confused. I  had no food with me to give it cause to chase me, even though the  journey promised to be long and tiring.

It retreated, and I tentatively lowered my arms to look for it. It had  perched on a branch not far to my left. It cocked its head, studying me  intensely. Warily, I gave it wide berth and tried striking out northwest  again. Every time I veered even the slightest bit in a westerly  direction, it flew at me.

Scowling, I headed north to the estate. It followed me closely, herding  me to the gate, which swung open at my approach. I stopped to look at  the crow.

"I truly feel I've tempted fate enough. I don't suppose you'd leave me in peace if I went no further."                       
       
           



       

It cawed angrily, and I sighed, eyeing its sharp beak. Hoping the  beast's benevolent mood remained intact in the light of day, I stepped  through the gate. As soon as it slammed closed behind me, the crow flew  off north toward the center of the estate. Nervously, I lingered by the  gate, unwilling to risk increasing the beast's ire by going any further.

After several long minutes the small, unidentifiable noises made by the  wildlife in the surrounding area quieted. The typically blurred air grew  murkier, making it hard to see more than a few feet beyond where I  stood. A caw sounded nearby, the sharp ring of it dampened by the mist.

"You returned." The beast's disembodied growl floated to me.

Standing my ground, I slowly scanned the darkest areas in front of me.

"Not by choice. I think your crow would have eagerly pecked out my eyes had I not abided by its direction."

Silence answered me. Had I misunderstood? Was the crow not his  messenger? My stomach churned, and my gaze darted from one shadowy  object to the next as I tried to discern which might be the beast. After  a few moments of straining to see or hear any indication I wasn't  alone, I bravely spoke.

"I'm very willing to leave you to your peace if you would kindly convince the gate to open."

"Before you leave, you may ask of me one thing you need that I can find  within the walls of my estate," he said with a low rumble.

My mouth popped open. Generosity from the beast was the last thing I'd expected.

"I...thank you for your offer," I said slowly, "but I've taken so much from the estate already."

"You scorn my offer?"

The roar of his rage momentarily deafened me and startled nearby birds  from their roosts. Rubbing my ears, I hastily tried to assure him.

"Never scorn. To the east, a portion of your wall has crumbled and often  the area beyond offers a small harvest of edible roots no matter what  time of year. Many times it's helped feed me. And just the other day, a  spider threw its fine webbing at me, strong enough to use as thread. To  my shame, I've never scorned the bounty of your estate. I've repeatedly  taken without asking until finally it stopped offering. So you see, I  can't possibly accept more."

An annoyed grunt sounded to my right, but when I turned in that direction, I saw nothing.

"Regardless, ask of me one thing you need. Only then will the gate open."

I frowned at his stubborn insistence. Why did I need to ask for  something? Perhaps it was a trick, and if I asked for the wrong thing  I'd be trapped in the estate forever. He'd said something in the estate  that I needed. Need must be the key. If Blye stood before him, she would  say she needed something silly like thread or material, but I knew  neither could be a need.

"I can think of nothing I need. We always have enough food to keep from starving and a roof to keep us warm and dry."

"I don't care about your family," he said sharply. "Whatever you choose  must be for you and you alone. You waste my time. This is no riddle to  debate and stew. Just choose," he bellowed, causing me to jump.

Thoughtfully quiet, I nibbled at my lip. It was on the tip of my tongue  to ask for a man's shirt. I even opened my mouth and made a small noise  before snapping it shut as a surprising thought stopped me. I could hear  his growing agitation in the increased volume of his growl.